Gravity is Falling Down All Around
by WhoAmI659
Summary: "Everything is all very fuzzy; flashes of snapshots, vibrant colors of blue and red, and whirlwinds of heated words" - Raphael is in the Dojo with no actual recollection of what happened. All he knows is that it deals with Leo; always with Leo. He'd give anything to remember, or so he believes. Warning: T-Cest and character death. Don't Like, Don't Read. (Originally posted on DA)
1. Chapter 1

**Old A/N:** *Warning*:  This small fanfic DOES include T-Cest, and a vaguely descriptive intimate scene, along with some cussing (Raph). If you do not wish to read this, then please turn back now. No flaming, and no improper comments, for it's not my fault that you continued to read despite my immediate warning.

Now for those of you who wish to continue, then I thank you for your patience.

(Scenes may, or may not, seem implicit. It all depends on how, you- the reader deem it to be.)

 **New A/N:** This story is years old, even before I had posted it on DeviantArt. I glanced it over it quickly, but I didn't complete much editing. This is definitely not my best work, and I still have a ways to go when it comes to my skill in writing, but I at least hope you enjoy this.

* * *

~ Part One ~

* * *

It's so fuckin' hot, and too damn suffocating. The walls feel as if they're squeezing in on me, tryin' to forever trap me within' the confines of the Dojo.

Still, I plow onward in a fit of unbridl'd rage. Raw anger and frustration is eatin' away at my insides, turnin' my blood inta molten lava. I don't ev'n 'member what it was that had gott'n me so on edge anymore.

It's been hours. No. Days, or weeks even, since I've stepped foot outta this room. All I can clearly recall is an endless round of me an' the punchin' bag, along wit' a few bloodied knuckles. I push aside the naggin' feelin' that something larger is loomin' in the corners of my mind. Somethin' dark and foreboding. Instead, I growl out in pure anger, successfully drowning out the prick of sudden fear and dread.

I vaguely register the sensation of hot liquid seepin' through th' bandages wrapp'd 'bout my hands and down my arms. For some reason I find this discovery to be one of minute importance; a mere nuisance of sorts that has already happen'd more than a dozen times. All I do know, is that I'm so damn angry. Yet I have no fuckin' clue as to why.

I pause ta wipe th' sweat outta my eyes, flickin' drops of perspiration down unta th' tatami mats. Huffin' an' pantin' heavily - I attack the bag with renew'd vigor.

Perhaps Mikey had bugg'd me once too much earlier, or had Don belittl'd my intelligence to where I jus' lost it?

I shake my head in a negative connotation.

Nah. None of that would've set me a'flame like this. There was only one turtle with th' ability ta do that an'... damnit!  
It had'ta of been Fearless. My upper lip curls at the thought of the eldest. That damn bastard always had a way of pushin' my buttons like none-oth'r.

Releasing a snarl of pure savageness, I slam my right fist smack-dab in th' middle of my punchin' bag. It gives off a pitiful moan, before comin' undone at the hinges and flyin' across the room. The impact of it hittin' the wall causes for the bag to tear an' inadvertently spill forth its contents.

"Shit."

Yeah, it definitely had somethin' ta do wit' Leo. No wonder I'm on a rampage of this caliber. All I hav'ta do now, is fuckin' figure out what it was that'd happen'd!

Sudden images flit across my mind's eye, teasin' me and baitin' me with a false pretense of what'd occurr'd earlier.

* * *

 _Leo in the kitchen, sippin' his "ev'r-so-glorious tea". Liftin' his head, he smiles at me_ , _a downright true kinda smile. The type where the skin 'round his eyes crinkle, an' the tip of flashin' canines are acutely visible._

 _I can't help but return a smile of my own. A strange sensation makin' me feel... happy an' content. Slidin' inta the chair across from him, I watch as he continues to nurse his drink._

 _Then I find myself payin' closer attention. More attention than I'd ever giv'n him in the past. I soak in th' small details, such as the routine-like way he breathes in the aroma of his tea, 'fore takin' a sip outta his mug._

 _His mug. It's the same damn mug ev'ry day; a wish-wash mixture of dark and bright blues, adorn'd with a jagged chip at th' corner. A mug that I'd found in the junkyard one day and had deem'd worthy enough to give as a birthday present. Yet, he doesn't seem to mind the deformities of th' mug. In fact, it's as if he actually enjoys it. I follow his finger as it lightly traces ov'r the chipp'd area almost as if it provides him wit' reassurance, or somethin' of th' sorts._

 _I look back up'ta his face, mappin' out the smooth planes of unscarred flesh, and the_ _contour of his mask. Soaking in the colors of his skin, I subconsciously compare them to Mikey's and Donnie's natural hues, and find Leo's to be rather more... exotic, in a sense. His coloration and muscle tone both make him out to be a rather handsome kinda guy. Huh... I'd never notic'd jus' how enticing Fearless's skin was._

 _I'm shock'd._ Shit, what am I doing!? Did I really jus' think that? I must be losin' my damn mind.

 _Suddenly, I feel another's gaze on me, an' I snap back inta reality. Jus' in time for me_ _ta spy Leo lookin' at me inquiringly, his head cock'd slightly ta th' side._

Crap, he's caught me starin' at him for however fuckin' long.

 _I jus' glare at him in response, a teasin' tone present in my voice, in order to soft'n my verbal blow, "hurry it up Fearless. I ain't got all day fer ya to finish your shit-ass-tea."_

 _He jus' chuckles, an' I breathe out a silent sigh of relief._

 _I'll have'ta have Donnie-boy check me over; make sure I didn't inhale no strange chemicals that might've mess'd up my head or anythin' cause there's no way I'd be thinkin' these thoughts on my own._

* * *

I close my eyes an' breath deeply, tryin' to continue to break down this barrier of temporary amnesia. It doesn't take long for 'noth'r memory to surface.

* * *

 _Enterin' the Dojo, I stop dead in my tracks at th' sight before me. Shit. Leo's in there._

 _Turns out that these past thoughts were of my own doin', and now I'm goin' ballistic tryin' to figure out what to do. Leo and the other's have started to question my strange behavior. It's taken everything I had to not lash out at the two and jump Fearless. It'd be a nightmare tryin' to explain that to Splinter._

 _I hold my breath as I fall into that trap of desire and take a moment to study Leo. He's conductin' some form of new kata or 'nother and it does nothing to alleviate the desire lurkin' within. I should turn an' leave; save_ _myself from fallin' deeper into this pit I've found myself in lately. Instead, I jus' chose to stand back an' watch._

 _I find myself tracin' each bead of sweat trailing down his body wit' fascination. My gaze locks unto the grooves of muscle an' bone that twitch wit' ev'ry movement he makes. The ev'n breaths he exhales drone on in my ears - makin' me twitch wit' somethin' alien an' not at all that unwelcome. Everythin' else fades away, until it's jus'... him._

 _Leo, whose doin' some very complicat'd moves wit' his body._

 _Leo, whose bendin', an' twistin' in ev'ry which way._

 _Leo, whose makin' me feel things I shouldn't._

 _"Fuck Fearless," I cringe as I realize that I'd said that out-loud, an' immediately hope that he didn't hear me. He freezes durin' the process of performin' a roundhouse kick,_ _tiltin' his head in my direction, an' exhalin' slowly. Damn._

 _He turns to face me, an' I tense, preparin' for the ev'r present tongue lashin' that Leo is practically born wit'. I could play this off as usual. Cuss him out for tryin' to be "Splinter Jr"._

 _Twist these inappropriate feelin's inta anger an' rage. An emotion I sure know how'ta deal wit'._

 _I open my mouth to verbally counterattack. Yet, once his gaze finally lands on me, I_ _freeze, the words stuck in the back of my throat._

 _His eyes. They shine with something primal and breathtaking. I can see a torrent of ragin' emotions play across those twin sapphires, an' I immediately snap my beak shut._

 _"Raphael."  
An' that's all it takes. He doesn't say it wit' disapproval or anger. No, it's something foreign, something I want to hear over an' over again. Somethin' I sure as hell don't truly understand, but shit, do I want to know.  
One word, an' he has set everythin' in motion. Figures he finally figured it out. Damn you Leonardo. Damn. you. _

* * *

My breaths have grown heavier. Memories. _These_ memories bring on a fresh wave of emotions. Ones of such content, happiness, passion, an' _lust_. My gaze travels through th' cracked openin' of the Dojo doors, an' toward Leo's room. My body shivers at th' thought of that particular night.

* * *

 _A spark of electricity travels from my head to my toes, makin' me shiver uncontrollably. His hands travel up an' all around... slowly... intimately..._

 _I can't refrain from lettin' a churr break lose. I am fire, an' he's ice. The right combination for explodin' need an' ragin' want._

 _He smiles at me, testin' out my more sensitive areas, in order to draw that sound out of me once more; to make me cry out his name in such a way unbefittin' for oth'r ears._

 _Instead, I grin at him devilishly, an' proceed to torment him in the same way, if not more insistently. I am rough, an' teasing. Playin' him as easily as an instrument. Pluckin' the metaphorical strings, in order to orchestrate such tantalizin' music from deep within his throat._

 _He plays this game just as well; turning me on thoroughly, toward even more of a fevered state than I thought possible. I moan out in ecstasy as his teeth an' mouth do wonderful things in the area between my neck an' shoulder. He is soft, yet demandin'; strict, yet playful. He is fuckin' perfect, and crap, I want more._

 _His touch sends a cold fire burnin' through my veins. His lips send me on a high of incomprehensible magnitude. His breath urges me on. His voice, a delicious sound of hoarse desire an' husky timbre, causes for me to go wild._

 _He leans in close, an' soon his tongue is intertwinin' with my own. I taste the hint of freshly brewed tea an' green mint in his mouth. Runnin' my tongue up over his teeth an' around his gums, I map out the entire structure of his oral area; making note of all the bumps an' ridges, grooves an' sensitive locations_.

 _We grow rougher, a more dominant struggle growin' between us, yet I find no true hint of aggression formin'. No, it is merely more of a teasin' taunt, a way for us to break the proverbial ice an' take that next step; it works._

 _His thigh slides between my legs, an' brushes up against my lower region. I buck instinctively, urgent and demandin'. He continues to caress there, until I finally drop down. His touch sends my senses overflowin', and I growl out in a harsh bark of mixed pants an' moans._

 _His left hand holds me down as I desperately try an' thrust inta his hand. Dang it Leo! I grab him 'bout th' shoulders, an' tug him down in a attempt to break his iron hold._

 _Right then an' there, I don't care. I don't care who tops, or who takes the lead. I can always win that game later. Now though? Now, all I want is him. All I_ need _is him._

 _"Leo," I churr out wantonly. He eagerly follows th' unsaid command, an' I am soon on th' ride of my life._


	2. Chapter 2

My breaths have grown labored, and my heartbeat is racing. Shaking my head, I struggle to move past that memory in search of the most recent of occurrences; the reason behind my brash and wild behavior. Suddenly, it becomes harder. Too hard to remember in great detail. Everything is all very fuzzy; flashes of snapshots, vibrant colors of blue and red, and a whirlwind of heated words.

A throbbing ache begins at the back of my skull, clawing its way through my eyeballs until I believe that my eyes are gunna pop in a milky substance of white goo and blood. I shake my head abruptly, and sharply tug at the ragged ends of my bandana tails in a desperate attempt to alleviate the mountin' stress. It doesn't work. I have'ta blow off some steam, 'fore I "implode" or some oth'r smart-ass word Donnie-boy would use to describe this - odd and unwant'd feelin'.

Roughly twisting my mask 'round my head; I soon find myself shrouded in complete darkness - I release a slight sigh - my eyes thankful for this small reprieve. The rest of my senses heighten in response, 'till I'm suffocating wit' th' whole "essence" that makes up the Dojo itself. It's overpowerin', an' at th' same time, exhiliratin'. The whole damn concept of this place reminds me of Fearless, an' I can't extinguish that small part of me that enjoys it; craves it even.

Inhaling deeply, I slowly turn in a lazy circle. Rotating my neck, I grunt in satisfaction at the loud sound of popping joints, and the tug of cramped muscles. Welcoming the darkness that the use of my mask brings, I just allow myself to try and let go... to try and take a break from this nagging feeling in my gut that prompts me to unearth past events.

Instead, I latch unto the memory of Fearless's voice; of that damn-sexy-cool-tone th't always leads me through a meditative state. Inhaling deeply, I easily slip into a defensive stance.

I remember the sensation of his hot breath ghosting over my beak, his tongue flicking out to sensually draw over my skin, and I perform a well balanced butterfly kick.

I recall his touch, as his fingers would casually brush over my arm, and I smirk slightly, before completing a midair twist and land on the balls of my feet with a small thud.

I can clearly bring to mind the feeling of his thighs locked about my waist as he power thrusts into me, and I conduct a flawless series of fast uppercuts and swift jabs.

It seems that all I can clearly recall is Leo himself, nothing more and nothing less. No other memories... Nothing that can clue me in as to why I've seemingly locked myself up in the dojo... or as to why this simmering anger and anguish still resides in the pit of my stomach...

Shit. It seems that my mind is relentless. No matter how hard I try to give up this self-subconscious imposed mission to remember something, I just can't. I need to remember. I can't face Fearless until I know what hole it is that we've dug ourselves into this time. How bad was our fight? Did we even fight? Did- god forbid- did we break up!?

Shit Leo. Why can't I 'member anythin'? It bugs th' hell outta me that I can't 'member nothin'. Freakin' nothin' at all... Damn it all to hell. I desperately try and hold back a shout of frustration. No need to draw any attention to myself if there's anyone even in the Lair.

Snarlin' out a roar of sudden frustration, I throw myself mercilessly into a rougher version of my kata. Kickin' and punchin' at th' air wit' an unforgivable air of purpose. The form I'm executin' is no where near the damn perfection that Leo manages to display, but it's still a far cry from ev'r bein' considered sloppy. 'Specially since I'd knock out the two front teeth of anyone who'd dare say otherwise.

No more than ten minutes have gone by, 'fore I begin sweatin' profusely; my tongue thick and swollen with a cracking dryness. Somewhere in the back of my head, I vaguely muse ov'r my unrelentin' thirst, and damn hunger. My mouths achin' for liquid, my stomach crampin' in protest, my hands are demandin' flesh on flesh contact, an' my minds screamin' for answers. Yet, I don't care. I just keep on going... It's as if I am stuck in a wind tunnel, and all I can do is to continue to launch head first into this vigorous display of ninjutsu and self deprecation.

This is a whole new level of expressed physical aggression for me. It's something that I've sensed looming in the darkest parts of my soul before, but I never thought I'd ever come close to seein' all my self control - or whatever I have of it - come undone so easily. It's threatenin' to fully expose itself all on its own, and I know I'll be in trouble if I'm not careful. It's dark and freakin' scary; the very essence of it manages to burn a gaping hole in my own soul, slowly clouding my judgment and clogging my thought process. It manages to rake its claws through my heart, leaving it to bleed uncontrollably, and I want to make it stop...

I want to plunge my own hand beneath my skin and tear out this terrible feeling...

yet I can't...

the only way I can even remotely make it stop...

is to stand right here in this room...

running my body ragged...

pushing myself to the upmost limits, both mentally and physically...

to try and shut down the animalistic rationality...

that's urging me to go out and hunt...

to make someone pay for the way it is that I'm feeling...

I pity the fools who'd dare try an' get in my way right now...

The most terrifying part of it is, that it's almost succeedin'. Now that I think about it, my sanest moments have become a rarity. I've been in here - god knows how long - and I'm as clueless as a bat to what it is thats been goin on around me.

I release a harsh chuckle. A chuckle not my own, but I recognize it as my voice. I pause, the only sound echoing about the Dojo is my own harsh breathing. What would Leo think of me if he could see me now? See the animal that's emerging from within me; the darkness that has remained dormant... until now.

Suddenly, I sense someone staring at me; burning holes in the back of my head as I continue to fight my way through this hell'ava confusin' situation. Shit, I don't want anyone around. Especially not now. I snarl low in th' back of my throat, but otherwise remain silent as the perpetrator continues to watch.

The silence is deafening, and I decide to try and occupy myself, 'lest I go crazy. Cocking my head to the side, I try my hand at deducin' who it is that's standin' there, watchin' me, like some kinda creepy stalker.

He's bein' real quite, so it can't be Mikey; that kid could never keep his yapper shut, or prevent his bubbly personality from seepin' inta th' surroundin' atmosphere. There's no tell-tale scent of grease that can only be found on Donnie, nor the all powerful mental essence of Splinter, so that leaves... speak of the devil... Leo. Just damn well perfect.

What is wrong with me? I scowl at myself in disgust. A part of me wishes for him to just stay the hell away, and another part wants to slam him against the wall and have my way with him. Well, since neither is a plausible possibility at the moment, perhaps I can wheedle the past events out of him during hand-to-hand combat. Two birds... with one freakin' stone...

If I could just discover what our petty little argument was all about, then I could try an' straighten things out. Then balance could be restored... I would kick his ass, and then have that sweet ass afterwards. God, how I have missed him. Memories just don't cut it. It ain't as glorious as the real thing.

"Get over here," I bark out roughly, my voice crackin' pitifully from the disuse of it. He doesn't move; doesn't even bother to respond verbally, an' I have to fight to keep my patience from snapping just like that.

Mentally releasin' a sigh, I cock my head to th' side and lower my voice.

"I jus' wanna spar, so could ya please come 'ere?" I wave my right hand a lil' ways to my left in indication of where I want him to stand. I can feel his surprise at how genuine I'm bein' at the moment, and I can't blame him. I ain't ev'r been this civil with the others, only wit' Leo, yet still that's always been on a rare occasion itself.

After some hesitation, he slowly walks over, and I can't help but frown. Somethin's... off. His footsteps are too damn loud, and he's breathin' weird. Fuck Leo, whatta we get ourselves inta for it to have affected ya this bad? I shake the mountin' guilt away, and ball my hands inta fists.  
Its time to end this...


	3. Chapter 3

"Ya ready to get your ass kicked?" I ask as I slip into a familiar stance. My heart races with the prospect of being able to just... touch him. I crave something familiar and sound, and right now, Leo is all that. He shuffles his feet into place an' clears his throat in affirmation. My frown evolves into a scowl at the un-Leo-like quake of his voice; and is it just me or is it damn pitchy as well? Anyhow it ain't right, and I can't help but feel remorse at the thought of what I may have done to hurt Fearless in a way that he's actually nervous an' anxious jus' by bein' 'round me. What if I'd actually done something terrible? What if I had hurt him somehow, and all this hatred is actually anger directed at myself? _Why the fuck did you mess up Raphael?_

I have to fix this. I ain't nifty like Donnie; I don't know how to mend wounds t'gethr prettily, or how to sweet talk my way back into the good graces of others like Mikey. Yet I do have my own methods. I know they ain't always pleasin' to some, and they sure as hell ain't openly accept'd within' the Dojo walls, but this is my mess, an'... shit... this is the only way I know how to clean it up.

Without waiting another second, I leap forward with an extended fist. I know that this isn't our traditional fighting style; brash, vengeful and full of unbridled anger. Yet, there's one thing I have always been sure of, an' that's Leo's ability to handle me at my worst. Releasing a lustful battle cry, I feint to the left and lunge in close to the right. Within the span of one breath, I execute a series of fast jabs directly under his ribs an' am satisfied, as well as surprised, to hear a pained grunt emit from him for my efforts.

I hesitate. Something's definitely off kilter. It ain't never this easy. Not with Leo. Had he lost some weight as well? Cause I know, despite the fact that I exceed him in physical strength, it takes a little more than some jabs to make Leo stumble. He's like those bamboos Splinter's always talking about; flexible with the wind but strong and true. I try and shake off this unsettling feelin' and take a small step back before leaning in close.

"Come on, hit me," I demand even as I prepare to tackle him down.

I sense him trying to keep his distance, but without a weapon that has a far reach, this call of action is pointless. It's a familiar strategy, from whom, I'm unsure but I'm positive that it ain't Leo's. He catches me by surprise while I begin to drift in la-la land, and manages to throw in a few good punches, but they lack a certain kind of... finesse. His strength's lessened a few notches as well, and he's directin' his knuckles in a downward lift, instead of the usual upward tilt.

I frown at my latest observations. He sure as hell ain't actin' right. Whirling away, I dance on my toes, taunting him with the movements of my body; trying to broach him into a more in-depth kinda fight. I expect for him to at least throw a series of solid punches, perhaps even a flurry of his more fancier and aggressive maneuvers. However it ends up bein' just a simple attack with no real fire behind it. Damn it! Where is Leo's head?

"Come on Leo, where's your a-game today?" I growl out in annoyance. A gasp can be heard in response, and I frown to myself. _What the hell?_ I twist my bandanna in place and begin to snark back at Leo in impatience.

"Ya know Fearless, if ya ain't up ta the challenge-" I freeze in momentary confusion as I come to find Mikey shuffling uncomfortably before me.

"Mikey, what the..." His expression is full of pain and sadness and it triggers something, cause Mikey actin' sad is a fuckin' rarity.

Suddenly I begin to remember.

 _The phantom echo of a bloodcurdling scream..._

 _The sound of Mikey crying that reverberates within the walls of my own skull..._

 _The stench of blood..._

 _The taste of copper in my mouth..._

 _A flash of blue - as a bright red simultaneously invades the cool color..._

 _Master Splinter yelling out in shock; cane hitting the floor..._

 _Donnie collapsing to his knees, muttering incoherently..._

 _Me, pounding away at the wall with my fists, screaming until my throat bleeds raw..._

And just as quickly I wanna forget all this.

 _Leo..._

It's as if gravity's crashing down all around me. After all this struggling to remember, all I want to do now is to shove everything into the back of my mind. I've gotta forget. Forget... Forget... _forget._ I clutch my head in panic. No... no, no , no, no _no, no_! It's just all a terrible nightmare. A terrible, horrible, gut wrenching nightmare that had set my nerves on edge. Right?

I fall to my knees and pound away on the tatami mats. Without Leo there is nothing. Without Leo there is pain and loss and terrible, terrible things. Without Leo I can't function. So I scream and I yell and I know that I am scaring Mikey, but I don't care. Leo is gone and there ain't a fuckin' thing I can do to fix it but to forget; not Leo though. I'd never forget Leo, but the pain and loss is too much and I just never want to move from this spot on the floor.

I can barely remember hearin' Mikey yell out for Donnie. The sound of running feet fades out in the background as a darkness seems to consume my mind. My senses dull and I feel lost in a fog that's within my own mind. It's safe and suddenly I don't feel so much anguish or terror. Here is where the truth can't hurt me, and suddenly I let go of all those horrible thoughts. Images of blood and pain wash away to nothing and my body and mind begins to calm. I am brought back to the present as I feel someone shakin' me and I open my eyes to blink blearily at Don.

"Raph, are you okay?" He asks with concern shinin' in his eyes. I blink in confusion and try to gain my bearings.

"What the... Don, whats going on? Where's Leo?" The pain and sorrow in his eyes strikes something deep within me and I know that I am missing something. Yet, I chose to ignore it as Mike and Don begin to drag me into a shaky stand. Mike's crying but all I care about is what Don is saying.

"Don't worry Raph... Leo... he's going to watch over you. He'll protect you, just hold on for me will you? We need to give you you're pills and then we'll see what we can do about Leo," I nod and it gives me comfort to hear this. I know that everything will be okay, because Leo is safe and I can never forget that.


End file.
